‘An urgent reminder of the need to heal the thousands affected by forced adoption. Beautifully written, deeply thought-provoking and a remarkable testament to the author’s courage and honesty.’ – Noni Hazlehurst, cover endorsement for Crazy Bastard by Abraham Maddison 

Post written by Polly Grant Butler

On Sunday afternoon, as a generous sun poured itself into Wakefield’s laneway, and Coriole wine filled our cups, a crowd gathered to celebrate the official launch of Abraham Maddison’s Crazy Bastard: A memoir of forced adoption.

The book was officially written over a period of more than four years – prompted by a letter Abraham received informing him of his biological mother’s death – but its contents span half a lifetime. It investigates the effects the Forced Adoption era has had on children and mothers, showing the way coerced separation can strip a child of perceived safety and fundamentally alter the way they move through life. 

The brilliance of this book is in its immediacy. The younger years are written in present tense, allowing us to experience, and therefore truly empathise with, Abraham’s pain. Despite the darkness throughout, the author’s voice is self-reflective and often sarcastic, and though he describes himself as ‘fiercely earnest’, Abraham’s ability to laugh at himself provides much-needed respite from all the tragedy. 

However, in addition to the difficult subject matter Crazy Bastard tackles, there is also hope and love. Abraham’s wife, Dr Shannon Schedlich, was heavily involved in the making of the book, and she is obviously a tremendous support. (When asked if she wanted to make a speech at the launch, she said simply, ‘No, this is Abe’s day.’) Their love story plays out in his memoir as the shining light at the end of a tumultuous road. 

Standing before a sea of attentive faces, the Hon Nat Cook MP, Minister for Human Services and fellow adoptee, launched the book with a powerful and compassionate speech. Despite losing his notes to the wind and watching as they disappeared over the fence, a kind neighbour quickly threw them back, and a gracious Abe was able to deliver his courageous words. We are pleased to share them below.

Thank you, Michael, and thank you minister, for your very generous words. My mother Joye was a fierce feminist and a Labor woman to the core. I am certain she would not approve of this book, but I am equally sure that she would be honoured that you have introduced our story.

And of course, you’re an adoptee too, Nat, as well as being the Minister for Human Services, so I think other adopted people and mothers would be thrilled that you are here today, helping bring light to the difficult subject of adoption trauma.

It’s a big week for Australian adoptees. On Tuesday it will be ten years since this country said sorry to us and our mothers, and this has been an opportunity for us to reflect on what has and hasn’t occurred since then, and I’ll address that very important topic a bit later.

Today, though, is about celebrating CRAZY BASTARD finally going out into the world, almost five years to the day since I received my mother Joye’s 1972 letter in the mail.

My book recounts a difficult and confronting journey and from the very start, writing it did not go to plan.

When I declared in March 2020 that I was leaving the Advertiser to ‘find myself and write a memoir’, I’m pretty sure people were coughing wanker under their breath and wondering if I had a case of the covid crazies.  

My wife Shannon will tell you with an eyeroll that I did it because I listened to a tarot card reader. She’s not entirely wrong, but there was definitely an astrologer involved, too.

Once we got past a couple of months of covid lockdown with the kids, my grand plan was to go off on a couple of writing retreats and smash out a witty, heartfelt memoir.

It would be filled with poignant vignettes about poor Derek’s difficult life as an adoptee. I’d send it to a publisher, who would swoon and publish it immediately without editing a word.

It would be a bestseller, and the Schedlich-Pedleys would live happily ever after. What a wanker, as Shan would say.

That plan failed dismally. I struggled to write from the start and very quickly had to confront uncomfortable truths about myself and my issues with addiction, compulsion and obsession.

American writer Lily Dancyger perfectly describes the process I subsequently engaged in as ‘memoir as detective novel’ in which the search for the HEART of the story IS the story.

The desire to uncover the truth is the driving force of the narrative—the author brings the reader along on their quest, much the same way we go along for the ride in a detective novel.

But instead of ‘who done it’, it’s a search for answers to more diffuse questions like, ‘Who am I?’ ‘Where do I fit in my family?’ or ‘What is the truth of my past?’

And they were very very difficult questions for me to confront. So difficult that my redundancy package came to an end before the book did, and that left me broke, unemployed, depressed, and perhaps a little bitter.

Shannon will tell you that this made me a very high maintenance husband, and she had to work incredibly hard to help keep me afloat.

My wonderful editor Jo Case also found herself dealing with a writer having a breakdown, who constantly demanded that that we publish NOW goddamn, this is DEFINITELY the final draft.

I was not interested in redrafting. I was not interested in layering or questioning or shaping or honing. And I was definitely definitely not cutting.

But Shannon and Jo pushed me to do this and more. I also listened to the advice of master memoirist Kee Kofman, who implores writers to ‘write what makes you blush’.

I did that.

I found a way to step outside myself and clinically observe and record what I had done, what I had seen, and what had been done to me.  

And in doing so, I faced uncomfortable truth after uncomfortable truth and I wrote about it.

That was one of the toughest parts of this journey and it’s important that I acknowledge that you will not always like the boy and the man who inhabits the pages of this book, nor the reckless and selfish things that he did.

I hurt people along the way and I’ve it owned it. But I also recognise that having done bad things does not make me a bad person.

And now, I find myself free of the anxiety and the shame that’s plagued me all my life. And I hope that the hard lessons I’ve learned along the way will make me a better father, stepfather, husband and human being.

I also hope it’s made me a better son. My mum Phyllis has found this a difficult journey, but she has continued to support me, and love me, and I’m grateful for that. And last night, I was really pleased when she wished me luck for today.

I also hope that Joye could be proud of the man who stands here today. I hope that when she’d finished yelling furiously at me for revealing her deepest secrets to the world, we’d share a coffee and she’d tell me the bits she liked best.

Thank you all so much for coming today to share this moment with me. Many of you have helped me on this journey, or you’ve followed it and encouraged me.

Some very important thank yous:

I want to express my sincere gratitude to Michael and the entire team at Wakefield, who’ve done such an outstanding job of editing, producing and promoting this book, and also for organising today’s fantastic launch.

Thank you to those who’ve travelled a very long way to be here today. Joye’s best friend Faye Alexander is here from Alice Springs. Faye sent me Joye’s letter at just the right moment in my life, and she helped return a mother’s love to my heart.

Much love to you Faye, and also to Shannon’s best friend Roanna McClelland, who’s come all the way from Melbourne. Her first book, a captivating piece of literary fiction titled The Comforting Weight of Water, will be published by Wakefield in May.

Ro was also one of my first readers, along with Every Family Has A Secret researcher Julie Raffaele, my sister in law and renowned slice maker Amber Schedlich, SA adoptee advocate Sharyn White, former colleagues Robert Wainwright and John Whistler, New York psychotherapist Nicole Mata-so and my amazing Adelaide psychologist Melissa Dalmeyer.

They all endured my appalling first draft, and their feedback made this a vastly better book. And if they’ve not yet burned their first draft copies, I’d ask they not delay that any longer.

Also huge thanks to my mate Matt Deighton at the Advertiser for massive coverage for the book, both in yesterday’s edition of SA Weekend and last year in the Sunday Mail.

In Canberra on Tuesday, Sharyn White will join other adoptees and mothers at a ceremony commemorating the tenth anniversary. She has kindly agreed to hand a copy of my book to the Federal Minister for Human Services Amanda Rishworth, and I’d like to share what I’ve written to her in the book:

Dear Minister,

Ten years ago, Julia Gillard told adoptees and their mothers that the time of neglect was over, and that the work of healing had begun. The Coalition abandoned that process, and us.

In these pages are the stories of what forced adoption did to me, and to my mother, Joye.

Please give us the truth-telling, justice and redress process owed to all of us, for our lifetimes of trauma. Sorry is not enough anymore.

Abe Maddison

I would also like to remember some people who are very important to me, and a part of this book, but are no longer with us.

My mentor and friend, journalist Tony Barrass, my colleague and friend Simon Kaye, my aunt Carol Kelly, and my mother in law, Carol Schedlich. Carol was my very first first reader, and when she finished the book, she said ‘I like it a lot – and Shannon must love you a lot’.

She really really does. And it’s Shannon to whom I owe the greatest debt. Because every day she’s made the choice to keep believing in me and loving me, even on the days when it would’ve been so much easier to walk away.

She helped me find the peace and healing I’d been so desperately searching for, and she taught me that real fairytales take a lot of hard work and sacrifice.

All of this, and yet she still refuses to accept a Top Fan badge on my Facebook page.

Love you, sweetheart.

Thank you, everyone.

Support Wakefield Press by buying our beautiful books!  Visit our website or contact us on 08 8352 4455 for more information, or to purchase a book (or three!). We can post your purchase to your doorstep!